The Omega Legion
by Iestyn
Summary: Jackson's dream of being a werewolf has finally come. But when he is forced to move to London with his parents, he becomes an Omega, and once again is in solitude. Nightmares from being the kanima come to haunt him, but he also has new dreams of his real parents, and their lost secret. In London, will Jackson learn of his unknown past while being hunted down by a threatening pack?
1. Leaving the Alphas

"You're going to have to find a new werewolf pack in London."

I've just informed Derek that my parents told me that I'm moving to London, as my mom's job transferred there.

But I know better than to believe that.

After all the random deaths that have happened the past few months here at Beacon Hills, my parents have become paranoid. Especially after my supposed "death." I suppose I did die, but being the kanima, I was able to slip out of death's reach. After Lydia's arrival with my key, the problems that manifested the kanima disappeared. I felt free: free from Matt, from Gerard, from Derek and my peers.

But of course, Derek and his uncle, Peter, had to be douches and attempt to kill me afterward to assure their own safety. That only helped me, however. Their claws awakened the wolf bite that has lingered in my body, consuming any wolfsbane that had been left in my veins.

The most interesting part about my Change: I've blue eyes, like Derek and Peter.

"Your eyes prove your choice to kill innocents," Derek had told me. "The cold demeanor inside of you is manifested into your eyes as an icy blue. Be careful when you're in London: the werewolves will be more hostile when they see those eyes. You could say that... British lycanthropes are more friendlier and under control than American ones, and never kill innocents."

I shake my head. "When you first bit me, I didn't even want to part of your little werewolf crew, Derek. What makes you think I want to join a pack of English strangers? The way you talk about them, they seem even more innocent than the people I've killed."

"You're an Omega werewolf now, Jackson. If we were to fight me at this moment, I could easily destroy you." Derek laughs. "And the British werewolves are serene killers. If a pack surrounds you, there is no hope that you'll fend all of them off. One swipe and _boom!_ you're dead. I'm just giving you tips so that you survive. After all, I am technically the one that Turned you into one."

I roll my eyes at him. We're in his new lair, an old abandoned loft apartment; Isaac must be at Scott's and unfortunately Derek is yet to find Erica and Boyd. Although it's sad for Derek, it isn't my problem and frankly even if I wasn't moving to London I doubt I would help him. Nothing against Boyd and Erica, but Derek is just too forceful and not grateful for anything he does.

"Well, thanks for the tips, but I won't be using them. Omega's can handle themselves, or else they'd all be dead, right?" I begin to turn around. "Good luck finding your pack, though. I can sense the Alphas are close."

Derek's head shoots up and he turns to listen to their presence, cursing. Thanks to my new keen ears, I've heard them coming a long time ago. I guess I should have told Derek, but if he's the Alpha, shouldn't he already know about the coming?

"My flight is in a few hours. Sorry I won't be here to help you fend them off." I laugh and morph, ready to flee.

"Jackson!" Derek calls out. I hesitate before running and turn around. Derek shakes his head at me. "When the full moon comes, you won't be able to control it. It will be your first time, and the pack over there will certainly notice you. They'll force you to join them, and if you don't they'll kill you. For once, just be smart about it."

"Yeah, whatever," I say with a smirk. Honestly, maybe Scott couldn't handle the Change during a full moon, but hey, I'll embrace my lycanthropy. I'm positive I was born to be a werewolf, so no doubt the full moon will be nothing major.

I run out into the streets, away from Derek, away from the pursuing Alphas. I can hear them crashing into his loft, and I sense there is two of them. Twins. The energy is stronger than I'd ever felt, and then I can sense one of them disappear. No, wait. They've... joined as one? Is that even possible?

That's when I abruptly stop.

What did Derek just whisper?

_Goodbye, cousin_.


	2. Strength of Ice

On the long plane ride to London, I fall asleep while watching the dark storm clouds outside the window.

In my dream, I see Lydia. We are in my room, and she kisses my neck. I return the kisses, and ask her how she is without me. Lydia abruptly jumps out of my bed and screams. Now, Lydia was always a screamer, but this is supposed to be a dream, and it is as if the shrill sound is shattering my brain.

"All I did was ask you a question, damn it!" I shout.

"Jackson... Why did you leave me... You left your residual aura behind." Tears stream down Lydia's face. "The kanima is out to get me."

"What are you talking about," I say in a hushed tone.

"It's all over you. Look!" Lydia grabs a mirror atop of my drawer and directs it to me. I flinch at my reflection: my skin is spotted with scales of a lizard. Lydia screams once more while I watch in the mirror as I morph into the kanima once more.

_No... My problems are resolved. The manifestation of my past is gone. What is happening?_ My thoughts blur through my mind as Lydia's scream rises into a crescendo, and the mirror shatters as I wake up.

"God," I groan. "What the hell was that..."

I turn to the stranger I am sitting next to; my parents are seated a few rows behind me. She is sleeping, her hair a fiery crimson. The color gives me pain, it strikes similar to Lydia's, except more depth in red. Her skin is fair and smooth, and her chest rises each time she takes a breath. As if the girl knew I was watching her, she wakes up, and the color of her eyes shocks me deeply.

Golden like a werewolf's.

"I... What color are your eyes?" I ask innocently.

She bares a smile filled with aligned fangs. Then swiftly she shifts the fangs and golden eyes away, and I see now that her natural eye color is hazel. Again, it reminds me of Lydia.

"People tell me my eye color varies," she says innocently. Then she closes her eyes and begins to fall asleep again.

The pilot announces our descent in a few minutes, but all I am wondering about is this girl. Is she part of the London pack? Or could she be an Omega like me...

* * *

After I am settled in my new house, even larger than the one at Beacon Hills, I decide to take a stroll in the evening light. The moon will be full soon, but I know I will be prepared. I will not attract any lycanthrope packs. My parents even told me themselves: this is supposed to a clean slate. A fresh start. I will keep my powers a secret and be an independent werewolf, regardless of the fact that I am already an Omega.

The woods behind my house remind me a lot of the woods to Derek's house. I shake my head. No. I can't think about Derek, or Scott, or anyone from Beacon Hills. Not even Lydia, the love I left behind after she saved me from my distress and plausible death.

God, I miss Lydia. I wish I hadn't treat her like a piece of crap after all she's done for me. Whether she prevented my steady Change into a werewolf or not with her immunity to lycanthropy, I still became a werewolf in the end, so I should have apologized for that.

I should have done a lot of things I didn't get to do.

I hear leaves rustling behind me as I walk through a trail. Carefully, I turn around. Nothing. But as I keep walking father and farther into the wood, I keep hearing twigs snapping and leaves shaking as if someone were following me.

I give in to my lycanthropy and allow my ears to shift. I hear a muffled voice of a girl and someone shushing her. I'm about to leave for my house when something hits me: What if this girl dies the following morning? It would be my fault for not doing anything when I know I can do something. This is supposed to be a fresh start for me; I need to change who I am and not be a jerk like before.

So, naturally, I turn around and run to the captive girl. What I see is shocking: a rabid werewolf pressed against the same girl who sat next to me on the airplane, as if he were about to bite her neck.

"Go!" the girl screams. "Run away before he gets to you."

"No." I cock my neck and shapeshift to my wolf features, and my eyes sting for a split second as they change irises to the empty ice of lost innocence.

The rabid werewolf tilts his face at me and cowers automatically when he sees the color of my eyes: blue. He snarls at the girl and whines at me while he begins to rush away into the dark of the night.

"An Omega..." I mutter.

"Yes," the girl says. "Honestly, if your eyes weren't blue, the werewolf wouldn't have seen you as a threat. He will call on others, now that you have come here."

"And who are you?" I ask. I use the same composure as I did towards Allison, making sure I am cool and calm so I don't weird this new girl out.

The girl shifts uncomfortably. "I'm... not from around here either. But I know about the supernatural."

"Naturally," I reply. "You have an American accent like me. Plus on the plane, I saw your eyes. Golden, like that Omega's. I'm assuming you are an Omega like him and me?"

She giggles. "Perhaps I am. It doesn't matter, though. I told you to run because I could have handled that guy myself. I'm not your average regular lycanthrope."

"Too bad you don't have these eyes," I say with a fang-like grin.

"No British werewolf has blue eyes," she whispers. "You're a threat, and that guy will notify everyone of your arrival. They'll make you become a Beta and join their pack or kill you if you wish not to join them."

"Yeah, I've heard it all before." Derek flashes behind my thoughts. "But if that guy is an Omega like us, how can he notify a pack?"

"The British packs respect Omegas," the girl explains. "Although they are weaker than the rest, their solitude grants them extreme strength to adapt. But you: your eyes prove you cannot handle the power that comes with solitude, and they will force you to join them."

I want to say it wasn't me, it was the kanima, but that would freak everyone out. Instead, I answer, "Why don't you join a pack? And if you're from America like me, how do you know so much about British lycanthrope culture?"

"I can't give away my secrets," she says softly.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" I ask with hope.

"You can... you can call me Daisy."

"Daisy... I like that. Call me Jackson." I give her a shy smile.

Daisy returns a demure smirk and turns around. Her scarlet hair reminds me so much of Lydia, but I can't let that happen. The past is the past, and I need to focus on the present.

I need to focus on Daisy.


End file.
